Joyce's War by Joyce Ffoulkes Parry Read Free Book Online

and live happily ever after. And then we all threw our glasses into the darkness, heard the thin sound of them hitting the water below and then turned and went our ways. Later, hearing about the engagement, various people came up and joined the party: Bill and Sydney, Andy, David and Walsh, Nigel Davidson and Dr Denton and we made exceeding merry till 11.30pm. Mona went to bed then but John took me out again on deck for a deep discussion on Mona and other matters. I have solemnly promised to cherish her and look after her, until the end of the war.
    Next morning, our heavy luggage having gone ahead the previous day, we had nothing to do but sit and wait for the time of our disembarkation. We left immediately after lunch, and piling into a launch with our hand cases we left the old Otranto and, in about 20 minutes, were in Suez. It was hot and dusty there, waiting for our cases in the midday sun, and apart from visiting the local NAAFI for a very warm lemonade, we sat in the train, tired with the heat, until we left at 4pm. It was a dreary run across the desert, nothing but sand and an occasional village, with squalid flat-roofed houses and some straggling palms. We eventually arrived at Cairo at 9pm, thankful to have arrived. The New Zealand girls were collected into a van and sent off to the NZ hospital at Helmieh and were put on duty next day. Mona, Bill and I got into the next van but, on discovering that my hand case was missing, I got out and Mona followed suit. Unfortunately Bill was left behind, and that bus went off to Helwan and the girls, except Bill, who isn’t well, are now on duty. It is sheer luck that we remained behind because we are now at the Victoria Hotel, 50 of us all told, and the remainder at the Heliopolis House. The latter is more luxurious than our place, and as it is seething with QAs and their respective matrons, and we have only Fossie, and she doesn’t count anyway, we feel we have the best end of the stick. The Victoria is full of Aussies, mostly on leave from Palestine. We have orders that the grey tricolenes may not be worn, and we have to order the white tricolenes to be made at once, and also to buy a white felt hat.
    We have done quite a lot of sightseeing already, and have adopted a real gem of a Dragoman 13 – one Mahomet Ali el Shair. The first morning we set out on a shopping expedition and Mahomet Ali accompanied us, paying our bills, carrying our parcels, looking after us like a fussy old hen. We all climbed up into a horse-drawn gharry and went off to the bazaars. There we visited the perfume king of Cairo and bought extravagantly, perfumes to the sum of £1 for a small bottle. Mine is ‘Secret of the Desert’ and Mona’s ‘Tutankhamun’. They also gave us a little bottle of anything else we wished. Mona chose ‘Wattle’ and I ‘Attar of Roses’. Then we went to a silk merchant’s and each ordered a dressing gown and slippers to match. Mine is heavy oyster silk, embroidered in pinks and blues, in reproduction, so I am assured, of a 1713 piece of old English embroidery. Very lovely anyway. They are being made alike in Persian style and will cost £2.
    In the afternoon Mahomet collected us and we set off in a taxi to visit the mosque of Hassan. We walked under the pulpit and, turning to Mecca, made a wish, this being the correct thing to do. It was a fine mosque, lofty and austere and dignified, with lovely mosaics on the walls. Then we went to the citadel, which is a fortress, to the Alabaster mosque. Surely this is the most lovely church I have ever seen – thick red Persian carpets on the floor, solid carved alabaster columns and hundreds of crystal spheres hanging from the roof. How entrancing it must have looked when the lights were lit; the sun shining in from the western windows made the crystal chandeliers miracles of beauty, and all the colours of the rainbow. There were two pulpits, one built with the mosque 120 years ago, and the other opened only a week ago by